Black Roses Red
by Ryou Shirogane
Summary: This story cannot be told, for I am no longer able to speak of it. It is the beginning of the beginning; a time when the Mew Project was an unborn whim and I stood at the crossroads. The year was 1970. TMM Prequel. R&R please.
1. Beginning: A Message

_Author's Note: I just read one of my mom's romance novels - "Suzanne's Diary for Nicholas" by James Patterson. Honestly, it moved me to tears. I had been wanting to write this story for a long time, but that book really inspired me to try to portray these characters as real people and to express different kinds of love. The "Clannad" movie was also a help - which I watched more recently. This was going to be a three-shot, but... as long as three people per chapter ask me to continue, I will keep writing until I reach "the end". I don't want to give too much away just yet, but I will say this acts as a Tokyo Mew Mew prequel and stands alone - it is a different interpretation from any of the other fanfics I have written, even if some names and events are the same. I will reveal more later, in the first actual chapter which I will also post tonight if I can help it, so without further ado..._

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**Black Roses Red**

_Not a hundred regrets,  
Nor a thousand kisses  
Could bridge the wide expanse  
That stands between You & Me._

This is a story that will never be heard.

It will never be spoken, for I am no longer able to speak it.

It has been lost to the impartiality of time and wounded memory.

I wish I had told it to you back then, back when you were still small enough to fit in our arms, shining like a star, your eyes alert and eager to discover and touch everything. You always loved stories.

You would have really liked this one, too. I just know it.

**New York City is very cold.**


	2. Arrival: A Meeting Pt 1

_Author's Note: Blah. I need a beta. This story is giving me so dang much trouble, and I'm having/needing to research a lot since I wasn't alive in 1970. Anyway, I am posting what I have written so far for critique and will probably condense this and the next chapter into one later on. Three reviews to continue. Thanks._

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_I don't have much money, but boy if I did,  
I'd buy a big house where we both could live.  
If I was a sculptor, but then again, no.  
Or a man who makes potions in a travelling show...  
I know it's not much, but it's the best I can do;  
My gift is my song and this one's for you.  
And you can tell everybody this is your song.  
It may be quite simple, but now that it's done,  
I hope you don't mind._

_- Elton John, "Your Song" (1970)_

**New York City is very cold.**

This was the first thing that crossed my mind as I headed down the streets. It was also crowded and dirty, much unlike the small Japanese town that I had been born into. A place where the most exciting thing had been visiting the local shrine every weekend, especially on New Years' when we all went together to find out our fortunes for the following 364 days after having watched the sun rise. The town was just a little bit old-fashioned, close to its roots, as I soon discovered after attending Toudai for four years. That is, the University of Tokyo, where I would study science. My parents had pooled every 100 yen piece they could spare for some twelve years so that I could attend a prestigious university. Saving to travel abroad had been my own idea, however, and the result of not only a part-time job during college, but a good deal of additional works and services. So now, here I was - standing out in the snow and wishing I had studied English just a little more fervently, since I was currently second-guessing myself and wondering where even to begin in this new country - no, this new world.

_Perhaps the easiest way to approach the situation would be to start by finding a decent hotel. Neccessities first._

Flakes swirled around my face, latching onto my coat and the frames of my glasses, tangling themselves into my hair, and tickling the bare skin of my face. Those flakes that had packed themselves together on the ground gave a satisfactory crunch beneath my feet as I took my first uncertain steps away from the airport. Around me the buildings were tall; lights flickered brightly in the heart of this city, magnified by the glassy precipitation that was accumulating on sidewalks and overhangings. People murmured noisely to one another - sounds that combined themselves into a loud and unrhythmic chorus of voices, car horns, idling motors, and the faint drone of music from radios. The sky was gray and murky - perhaps not entirely due to the weather.

They call America the land of opportunity, don't they? ...but around me the faces were generally unfriendly, and the road branched out in far too many directions. People shuffled by in a hurry, making it nearly impossible for me to stop anyone to inquire about directions. Not that I felt they would answer me if I succeeded.

_What was I supposed to do now?_

I could have kicked myself for being so utterly unprepared, even though I had been anxiously awaiting this opportunity for months. I wondered fleetingly if I had been too hasty.

"Sumimasen..."

I turned towards the voice, swept up in a mix of bewilderment and relief.

"Watashi ni otetsudai dekiru koto?"

The man who had spoken stood about a head taller than me. His eyes were a sharp and calculating shade of blue, his features were rounded but not overweight. A ring of close-cropped brown hair crowned his head, and he made no efforts to hide that he was balding or that strands of gray were becoming more prominent.

"Can I help you?" he pressed.

"Ah, well actually..." I fumbled, a little nervous suddenly, but overall grateful to find someone who could understand my native language. In the back of my mind I reminded myself not to use it too frequently, or it would become a crutch.

This man exuded patience. He brushed snow from his coat as he waited for me to answer him properly. I continued in English.

"I am surprised to find someone in America who can speak Japanese. I only just now arrived at the airport and I was trying to find an inexpensive hotel to stay. I do not suppose you would know of a good place?"

The man smiled, "I see, so that's how it is. My name is Ilan Beaumont. I have a lot of business pals over in Japan, so I made sure to learn the language a bit."

When I looked vaguely puzzled, he continued, "I'm a stock broker. New York Stock Exchange. It's not the job for everybody, but it works for me. And you are?"

I nodded in response, bowing habitually, "I am Shirogane Jishou. I think that in English my name would actually be Jishou Shirogane... I am a student of science."

"A scientist are you?" Ilan's eyes flickered with interest, making him look considerably younger than he had only a moment before, "I'm something of a supporter of the sciences myself. Especially NASA, and those newer computer models. Well, I'd really love to chat more, but it's far too cold outside for my tastes. Let me treat you to a cup of coffee and then we can figure out a good place for you to stay."

I marvelled at my sudden stroke of luck, and wondered fleetingly if this was a good omen or if I was simply being set up. My instincts told me, however, that I had nothing to fear from this man.

"Thank so much!" I blurted, "But, will you not be late for work?"

Ilan laughed heartily and patted my shoulder, "No need to worry yourself, son. It's Sunday. I always take Sundays off. Usually spend them with the family, but, I think they'll understand just this once." He winked at me as he hoisted up one of my suitecases and flung it across his back.

"I can carry it!" I started to protest, hurrying after him.

"It's quite all right. I do hope you like coffee. The cafe on the corner has got the best in the city, if my opinion means anything. I suppose if you don't like it, they always serve tea. Was always too weak for me, but to each his own," he continued companionably.

Catching up with him at last, I realized he had a slight limp as he walked. He paid this handicap no mind and continued to overflow with small talk about New York's restaurants and whether or not this would be a bad winter.

I, having no choice and being glad for the company, lent my ears.


End file.
